


A flaming shot and a broken lock

by Gnomecat



Category: Homeland
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-22
Updated: 2017-06-22
Packaged: 2018-11-17 10:56:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11274018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gnomecat/pseuds/Gnomecat
Summary: Set at some point in Season 2, not long after they first met. Imagine if this happened instead.





	A flaming shot and a broken lock

Friday night drinks with work colleagues. Quinn sat in silence feeling distinctly out of place and only half listening to the chatter around him. A mixture of light-hearted chat about music, TV shows or celebrities he had never heard about and more serious discussions about world issues that he had no wish to be part of in this informal setting. 

It had been a spur of the moment decision to come here. A tactical move to maintain his cover of being ‘just one of the team’. Or at least that was what he had told himself. But now he was sitting here alone in the crowd with time to think he was forced to admit to himself that it was partly motivated by loneliness. Not a feeling he had, or rather allowed himself to have, very often but this evening he had looked around his sparse apartment and suddenly anything had seemed better than being alone. 

Right now though he was wishing he was anywhere but here. He should just leave. Go back to the office and do something useful. He looked at his watch. It was still early though. Maybe he should stick around a bit longer and try to join in the conversations. At least try to achieve his primary objective. 

“More drinks anyone?” he asked, taking orders, before standing up and heading to the bar. As he manoeuvred into a gap the woman next to him turned and smiled. He did a double take. Carrie? His stomach flipped. She was here after all? After all. That thought surprised him. He blinked and looked again. No. It wasn’t her. 

In fact she didn’t look much like Carrie at all except for the blonde hair. He shook his head feeling a bit flustered as the real truth, the thing he had been denying, finally hit him. The main reason he had come here tonight was the hope that Carrie might be here too. She had been on his mind a lot recently. In fact he couldn’t stop thinking about her. But it was a bad idea. Personal attachments weren’t something he could have in his line of work. He needed to get over it. It wasn’t going to happen.

The blonde woman was wearing pink fairy wings and a sash which read ‘Birthday girl’. He smiled back at her. “Happy birthday.”

“Thanks.” 

The barman appeared with a bottle and some shot glasses and lined them up on the bar in front of the woman and her friends. He flipped the bottle in his hands, poured the alcohol and set fire to the drinks with a flourish. The woman and her friends cheered. 

“Here.” She pushed one of the flaming glasses towards Quinn. “Help me celebrate.”

“Oh… no..”

“Drink! Drink! Drink!” the other party guests crowded around him and chanted in unison.

“Ok..” he picked up the glass.

He was just about to blow out the flame when the woman touched his arm gently. “Don’t forget to make a birthday wish!” 

Surprised he met her eyes, and for a second thought he saw Carrie’s face again. For a brief moment he wished he could see her tonight, before blowing out the flame and downing the shot. 

“Woo!” The girls downed their flaming drinks too. 

“Have a good night!” The blonde woman winked and walked away.

***

Time ticked by and he stayed at the bar, trying to join in with the conversations. Agreeing with the discussion about how annoyingly inaccurate TV crime dramas are (they don’t use their gloves properly, the suspects always confess right away, every character is a genius about something) but then agreeing with the counter arguments that TV shows should just be fun escapism.

His phone buzzed and he picked it up noticing that the time was exactly midnight. It was Carrie. 

“Hey.”

“Quinn. I need your help.”

He sighed. Typical Carrie, straight to the point. “It’s midnight. Can it wait until tomorrow?”

“Not exactly.” There was a pause. “I’m trapped in my bathroom. The lock has stuck and I can’t get out.” 

“What?” He switched the phone to a different ear, as if it would make a difference to what he was hearing, and immediately stood up and began walking out of the bar. 

“Can you come and help me?”

“You took your phone into the bathroom with you? Why did you lock the door when you live on your own?” 

“Stop asking stupid questions. Can you help or not?” Her voice was rising in annoyance.

“Ok, ok. I’m coming. But how am I going to get into your house? Do you want me to kick your front door down too?”

“No I have a hidden key. It’s buried underneath the rock with the spot of red paint.”

“Carrie…”

“Shut up, I don’t need a lecture on security right now. So are you coming?”

“Yes. Don’t worry. I’ll be right there.”

It didn’t take long to get to her house. Sure enough the key was under the rock and he went inside and knocked on the bathroom door. “I’m here. Are you decent in there?”

“Yes, I’m wearing a towel.”

“Well thank fuck for that!”

“Gee thanks. I have quite nice boobs for your information.”

He laughed. “I’m sure you do but I certainly don’t need to see them.” (A lie. A big lie).

“Hah right.” He thought she actually sounded a bit miffed. “Now get on with it. I’m getting cold.” 

“So why did you call me?” he asked as he contemplated the best course of action. It was actually going to be quite easy to open the door, but a small part of him wanted to prolong the situation. Just the fact that she had thought about him at all made him feel ridiculously happy and he wanted to keep that mood. 

“I didn’t exactly have a lot of options did I? Let’s see, there’s Virgil- but his wife would kill me if I called him again at this hour. There’s Max- but…”

“He’s a mute. Can he even talk on the phone?” He couldn’t resist chipping in with that one. 

“He’s not a mute. He’s doing surveillance. I could have called some burly fireman, which was tempting, but I’d prefer my door in one piece. So that just left you. The last option.”

“The best looking option though.”

He heard her snort. “Whatever. Can you pick the lock or not? Do I have to call out the firemen?” 

“No no no. You chose…. wisely.” He was tempted to open the door right then for dramatic impact, but a small part of him still wanted to stall so he just jiggled the handle a little. “So tell me. Bath or shower?” 

“Bath. I had candles and everything. It was all very relaxing until I tried the door. Hey, thanks for coming. It sounded like you were at a bar. I didn’t interrupt anything did I? A hot date with the ER nurse?”

“What?” It took a second to remember what she was talking about. “Uh, no. That was… That’s over. No. I was just out with Galvez and the guys.”

“Really? I thought you were joking when you agreed to that. I’m surprised.”

“Why? What do you think I get up to in my spare time? I’ll give you a hint. It’s not long baths. I’m more of a shower guy.”

“Hah!” She laughed out loud. “Thanks for sharing. I don’t know. Clean your guns? Read a book? Practise languages?”

That was quite close to the mark but he didn’t want to admit to that. He went for humour instead. “How boring do you think my life is? Actually I teach self-defence to old ladies.” 

“Hah!” She laughed again. “I bet that’s fun. Do they introduce you to all their hot granddaughters?”

“Of course. It’s very rewarding. So what about you?”

“I knit blankets and toys for rescue kittens.” 

“That’s nice. I’m a cat person. I’ve rescued many kittens from trees. I should introduce you to my old lady friends. You would get along well.”

“Let’s set it up.”

He smiled. This was good. Things were going well. This was exactly the kind of situation he had been hoping to find himself in for the past few weeks. Well, not exactly. He could never have imagined rescuing her from a bathroom. But being alone with her? That was what he wanted. He began to contemplate what his next move should be. Was it acceptable to flirt with her while she was just wearing a towel? Probably not. He should give her a chance to get dressed. He wondered what her pyjamas looked like.

“Quinn? What are you doing out there? It doesn’t sound like you are doing anything. Seriously I’m getting cold.”

Oops, she sounded frustrated and he sensed that if he had a chance at all tonight it was fading by the second. He concentrated on the lock. 

“Uh, one second…. Voila!” The door clicked open.

She was sat on the edge of the bath, wrapped in a very large fluffy towel. She tightened her arms around herself and stood up. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” She was well covered up, but the sight of her in a towel was quite distracting and he suddenly didn’t know where to look or what to say. 

There was an awkward silence which lasted a little bit too long and he felt his nerve slipping. “Um, well, see you Monday I guess.” His feet wouldn’t move.

“Wait. You don’t have to go. Do you want to stay for a coffee?” 

“Uh. It’s late. You’re wearing a towel. I should go...” He finally looked her in the eyes as she stood up and moved closer. 

“But do you want to?” She was right in front of him now. Her hand on his shirt. 

He did want to stay. He really did. He liked her and now it seemed like she liked him too. It could be that easy. But now he wasn’t sure. His mind was racing ahead. Past the daydreams of kissing and hot passionate sex and straight on to what was next. The future. Could they have a future? Maybe they could. He knew enough about her to know there was a good chance she would understand anything he told her about himself, and it would be the same for anything she wanted to tell him about her life. He wouldn’t have to maintain a fake backstory involving old ladies and kittens. It could be the truth. But first he would have to be honest with her. The words tumbled out before he knew what he was saying.

“I have to tell you something. You know I’m not just an analyst right?”

She frowned and moved her hand away. “I had a good idea, yes. I know who you really work for. But why are you telling me this now?”

He took a deep breath. “Because I like you and I think this could go somewhere. I didn’t want to start anything on a lie.” He looked down again. Too nervous to meet her eyes. 

She backed off even more. “You like me? You think ‘this’” she gestured her hand between them “’this’ is ‘something’?” 

“I think it could be.” He felt the panic rising. This definitely wasn’t going well. 

She sat down on the edge of the bath again. “You’re wrong.”

“We could be good for each other…” he made one last attempt. He knew he sounded desperate but couldn’t help himself.

“Or a complete fucking disaster. Trust me Quinn. It will end badly. It always does.”

He looked at her. She was hugging herself and holding the towel up tightly. Looking at the floor.

“I should go.” He paused for a second but she didn’t look up. “I’m going to go.” He waited again but she still didn’t look up. He turned and walked down the stairs, not looking back. 

***

Back at his apartment he knew it would be pointless to try and sleep so he sat at the kitchen table trying to process what had happened. How had he gone from being invited to stay for a coffee to imagining a future to panicking about how it would all end?  
He couldn’t stay here now. He needed to leave. He needed to go and see Estes right now and tell him to go fuck himself and his mission. He began to pack his few possessions into his bag. He paused as he picked up the one personal possession in his entire apartment, the copy of Great Expectations, and flicked through the pages to find the photos. He wasn’t sure why he kept them. He snapped the book shut and carried it with him as he left his apartment and drove to his storage locker. 

The locker mostly housed the essentials for a quick getaway, but for some reason this time he went straight to the plastic box in the corner which contained the rest of his small collection of possessions. 

On the top was a large felt Viking hat with horns. Despite his bad mood he smiled at the memory. New Year’s Eve. Freezing cold. Astrid had not dressed for the weather and so he had given her his hat and scarf. In return she had stolen this hat for him from a fellow drunken reveller. It had nearly caused a fight but she had managed to charm the man instead and defuse the situation. He remembered how much they had laughed that night. His heart rate began to slow down and he began to feel a bit calmer. 

Under the hat were a few more books, some more photos, and at the very bottom was a pile of letters. He opened the top one and read through it slowly. In the beginning he had written letters to Julia and kept all of her responses. He stopped writing to her a long time ago but she still wrote to him once a year on his birthday. She always put a line at the end of the letter to tell him to let her know if he wanted her to stop writing or sending photos but he never replied. He didn’t like to read them but he didn’t want her to stop. 

Yesterday he had collected the new letter from the PO box and placed it unopened inside Great Expectations. He opened it now and looked at the photos and read the short note. It was simple. Just happy birthday. A few lines about their new house, John’s new school, how well he was doing at school and the usual final line asking if she should stop writing. She sounded happy. John looked happy. 

Usually the photos reminded him of what he had lost, but this time he tried to focus on the happier memories of the time he shared with Julia. Because it had been happy in the beginning. They had had each other and for a while that had been all that mattered.

Photo in hand he sat back on the floor and considered his options. So many regrets and wasted opportunities. He always ran away. That was his answer to everything and look where it had got him. He had spent most of the past couple of years telling himself he was better off alone, but it wasn’t always like that. Sure his past relationships had ended badly, but there had been some good times. Some happy times. Did he really have a chance of a life with Carrie? Carrie. Just the thought of her made him smile. There was something about her. He wanted her. He wanted that life. But could it work? He knew they could be right for each other if they just gave it a chance. He should wait, be patient, see if she thought about it too and maybe changed her mind. She didn’t say no. In fact thinking about it she had looked as scared as he had felt. Maybe there was a chance.

He picked up his phone. 1.42am. He began to write and re-write several texts trying to decide what to say. 

He jumped when his phone vibrated in his hand. A text from Carrie. “I’m sorry about earlier. We should talk. Do you want to get takeout this evening.”

He smiled and replied straight away. ‘Sure. Your house at 7pm?’

‘It’s a date. I’ll even let you pick the food.’

‘Excellent. See you then.’ Heart pounding he packed everything back in the box and locked it up. For the first time in a long time he felt a surge of hope. He didn’t know how it was going to turn out but maybe, just maybe it could work. He had to try.


End file.
